


Hot and Cold

by woodelf



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Creamy Gold, F/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Popsicle Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:55:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22912858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woodelf/pseuds/woodelf
Summary: A warm summer's day and a cold frozen treat. Things get smutty.
Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold
Comments: 7
Kudos: 18





	Hot and Cold

“Belle?” Gold called as he entered their house. “I’m home!”

“I’m out back!” Her voice floated in through the open window of the kitchen, the day being pleasantly warm with a light breeze.

He headed out to the backyard, stopping short as he found Belle on her hands and knees in front of a flower bed, a pail of pulled weeds and deadheaded flowers beside her. She sat back on her heels as she heard him approach, depriving him of the alluring view of her derriere being hugged by her periwinkle blue shorts but giving him a chance to admire the way her front looked in the semi-sheer, sleeveless, pintucked white linen blouse she wore. She wiped the sweat from her brow, knocking her wide-brimmed straw hat to the ground and revealing a neat French braid from which tendrils of hair were escaping and curling at her temples. She looked up at him and smiled.

“Whew! I’m hot. But I’ve gotten a lot done.”

“So I see.” He leaned over, broke off a daisy, and tucked it into her chestnut hair. “Very pretty.”

Her dimples appeared as she rose, stopping herself just short of wiping her hands off on her shorts. “Let me just go in and wash up and get a drink,” she said, “And I’ll be right back out. And take off that coat and tie! You must be hot.”

She went inside and he obediently shucked his tie and jacket, laying them across the back of a patio chair and rolling up his sleeves for good measure, undoing the top two buttons of his shirt while he was at it. He dumped the contents of her pail into the composting bin and put away her tools in the small garden shed where they lived, and a few minutes later she re-emerged with something in a tall coffee mug. 

“Come sit in the shade with me?” she invited, and led the way to the spot under the oak tree where two Adirondack chairs sat with a small table in between them. Gold sat down in one but Belle plopped down onto the shaded grass, letting the breeze caress her sun-heated back. She held out the mug towards Rumpelstiltskin. “Frozen blackberry juice bars,” she announced, watching as he took one. “I found them at the market today. They are _so_ good.” She tore the paper off of hers and stuffed the wrapper into the mug, setting it aside on the table to take back inside later. 

Rumpelstiltskin did the same, experimentally licking at the bar and then sliding the whole thing in his mouth, sucking at it with an appreciative “mmm” sound.

“Good, right?" 

Rumpelstiltskin looked up to see Belle nibble at a corner of her bar, then copy him, widening her lips to take the whole thing into her mouth as deeply as she could, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked at it, then pull it back out, slowly, her lips and tongue already stained a rich berry purple. Leaning back on one hand, bare legs stretched out in front of her and crossed at the ankle, she kept her eyes fixed on him as she delicately drew her tongue up the side of the bar, sucked at the top, and slid it into her mouth again. He couldn’t look away, and from the mischievous look on her face, she knew exactly what she was doing to him. He was so engrossed, he barely sucked at his own bar until he felt a trickle of cold liquid run down onto his hand as it melted. Hastily he slurped the melted layer off of the bar and then licked the sweet, sticky juice off his hand, glancing up as Belle giggled and knelt up. She dropped her empty stick into the mug with the wrappers.

"Want me to help you with that?” she asked teasingly, reaching for his hand, or the bar, he wasn’t sure which. 

“No. Mine.” He pulled his hand away and stuck the whole bar into his mouth "It’s your fault,“ he mumbled around it. "You’re too distracting with something in your mouth.”

“You’ve never complained before.” She looked up at him through her lashes, her voice teasing, her meaning clear.

“Why do you think I got distracted?” he growled, pulling the bar out of his mouth. 

“Your tongue’s purple,” she stated with a grin. 

“So’s yours.” It really did stain beautifully, and his eyes sparkled as an idea struck him. “You still look hot, sweetheart. Why don’t you unbutton your blouse?” he suggested silkily.

Belle looked startled, and glanced around. But the yard was enclosed by a tall board fence, giving them total privacy from any prying eyes save those of the birds in the branches overhead. Slowly she undid each button, until her blouse fell open, watching Rumpelstiltskin’s eyes darken with desire. 

“And your bra,” he said huskily, and after a moment she reached behind her back to unfasten the clasp, then slid the straps down over her arms and pulled it off without removing her blouse, liking the feel of the crisp linen placket brushing against her bare breasts. 

Rumpelstiltskin swallowed hard, and slid off the chair to kneel in the grass in front of her, temporarily dropping his juice bar in the coffee mug and reaching out to cup and caress her breasts, rubbing his thumb over her nipples, hearing her catch her breath and push into his palm. Aware of the melting bar, he pulled his hand away. “Lie back in the grass, sweetheart.”

She obeyed, anticipation already making her breath quicken, the edges of her blouse falling to the sides as she folded her arms behind her head as a pillow and baring her completely. Rumpelstiltskin leaned over her, pulled the frozen juice bar from his mug, and slowly dragged it over one of her nipples. Her entire body jolted as she gasped in shock, the rosy bud instantly puckering and stiffening from the cold.

“Too cold?”

“ _No._ Do it again.” She felt the first rush of wetness between her legs as he repeated the motion over first one nipple and then the other, using the edge of the bar to catch and push at them as they hardened. She glanced down at herself and saw them stained berry dark, making them stand out in sharp relief against her pale skin and the blue sky. Rumpelstiltskin made a considering noise, then circled the bar around her areolae, painting them with the juice as well, and continued outward, drawing a spiraling design around her soft breasts and onto her chest, wetting the bar occasionally with his mouth. Belle watched him in fascination, arousal already clenching her inner muscles, as he dragged a sticky trail down the center of her body, then circled around her navel, adding some squiggly lines radiating out from it, her belly muscles jumping at the sensation. She propped herself up on her elbows to see better, and realised it was a sun. She looked like a painted heathen priestess, she thought, being prepared as an offering to some god, and shivered.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, putting the dwindling juice bar in his mouth, his cheeks sucking in, and hooked his fingers in the waistband of her shorts. She didn’t need to be asked further, automatically lifting her hips so he could draw the shorts down together with her underpants and toss them to the side.

The grass prickled against her buttocks, the sensation unfamiliar and erotic, reminding her exactly where she was --naked beneath the open sky and a latticework of branches, Rumpelstiltskin kneeling over her and blocking out the sun, his long hair falling forward into his eyes. When he pulled the thin remainder of the bar out of his mouth, she trembled with the certainty of where it was going next. His next words confirmed her expectation.

“Spread your legs for me, sweetheart.”

She swallowed hard and obeyed, drawing one knee up, opening herself to whatever he wanted to do to her. And then the cold ice was between her legs, drawing through her folds, and she moaned, low in her throat. It touched her clit, cold and wet and slippery as it circled, again and again, and she clutched at the grass, feeling the flesh swell out from under its hood, throbbing in time to her heartbeat. She couldn’t hold still, her hips rose and fell and rose again, whimpers spilling from her throat. And then it was gone, and she looked down, a protest on her lips, to see Rumpelstiltskin suck the last sliver from the stick and lay it on her belly. Abruptly he sat back on his heels, undid another button on his shirt and dragged the whole thing off over his head, baring his smooth chest.

“Much better view,"she panted, reaching up to slide her hands over his shoulders and down to his biceps as he leaned over her on hands and knees.

"Not as nice as mine,” he husked, "I hate to destroy such a pretty picture, but I can’t leave you all sticky like this, now can I?“

"You made the mess,” she managed shakily. “You clean it up.”

And then his cold, cold mouth enveloped her nipple, tight under its coating of dried juice, licking and re-wetting it and sucking at its sweetness, drawing the puckered flesh deeper into his mouth to clean the areola as well, while she arched and cried out and buried her hands in his hair. He pulled back slightly, studying her intently, her breath hitching in her throat as the breeze blew cool against her wet flesh. She reached up to roll and pinch and tug at the swollen nipple, seeing the way he watched enraptured for a moment before dropping his head to attack her other breast, his broad, strong tongue lapping and sucking and chasing the spiraling purple trail he had left, slowly sliding lower as he worked his way down to her belly, tongue delving into her belly button as he reached it. She shut her eyes, feeling the maddening brush of his silken hair over her skin, and his breath playing over her, and suddenly her juices were overflowing and running down her thighs and she needed him _now_. Her entire body was thrumming, demanding more. She curled her fingers in his hair and tugged impatiently. _“Hurry.”_

He looked up, then sat back on his heels, a small but knowing smile lighting his eyes and curving his lips. He picked up the discarded wooden stick and ran it teasingly down between her breasts. “Is there something you wanted, my lady?” He rapped the stick smartly against one nipple and Belle’s hips jerked reflexively, a jolt going straight to her core.

It was an old game between them. "I want your tongue between my legs,“ she said in a low voice. "I want to come without any more teasing. And then I want your beautiful cock inside me and I want you to fuck me hard and fast.”

He swallowed hard, the tip of his berry-stained tongue coming out to wet his lips. “You are a saucy, impudent wench.” he growled. "And dammit, you know what it does to me.“ Suddenly his trousers were too hot, too confining, and he couldn’t be bothered to deal with undressing at this point. With a quick gesture he was naked, his cock lifting up at once between his thighs, the fresh air stirring against his heated flesh both a caress and a welcome relief.

"That’s cheating,” Belle protested automatically, but her eyes were feasting on his lean hips and strong thighs and the flesh jutting out between.

“Shall I put them back on?”

“Gods, no.” She reached for him, her fingers still able to close around his shaft, but felt him stiffen with her first stroke, He thrust forward into her fist, a sound of pleasure at the back of his throat, and she tightened her grip, pulling at him harder, and he swelled and thickened for her, hips pushing hungrily forward, until he abruptly pushed her hand away.

“Not yet, he protested, ignoring the demands of his body. "I haven’t finished taking care of you.” He took hold of her hips between his hands.

“Aren’t you any good at multi-tasking?” She had temporarily forgotten her own need, but it was still there, simmering under her skin, needing little to rekindle it.

“Not when your hand is on my cock,” he said bluntly. “Now, where was I?”

“Sticky,” she reminded him, letting her fingertips ghost over the patterns he’d drawn right above her mound.

“Ah yes –- ” He lowered himself, stretching out on the grass with his weight resting on his elbows, pressing his cock down against the cool grass and the firm ground and briefly closing his eyes to savour the jolt of pleasure that shot through him at the unfamiliar sensation. Quickly he returned to his task, cleaning every last streak of purple off her skin. Unbidden, she drew her knees up, opening herself to him, and he slid his hands under her buttocks, lifting her up, felt the grass prickling against his balls as he shifted position.

He knelt up again, drawing her hips up to rest on his thighs, hooking her legs over his arms, exposing her sex and bringing it up to his mouth. Half suspended in mid-air, Belle clutched at his flanks to steady herself as he swiped his tongue hungrily between her folds. narrowing it to stab at her clit, licking and sucking, the flesh swelling and pulsing under his ministrations. So close…so close…and then she was there, and she bit back a muffled scream as she came in a burst of ecstasy..

As the peak passed, she collapsed back to the ground, eyes closed, chest heaving, all the tension going out of her except where her muscles continued to flutter and twitch inside. Dimly she was aware of Rumpelstiltskin moving back up over her, the press of his erection against her sensitised flesh, and then her eyes flew open again as he drove into her body with one swift, sure thrust, her insides clenching anew, grasping hungrily at his solid length. 

Rumpelstiltskin stilled deep inside her, attention turning inward to focus on the feel of the aftershocks rippling along his length, letting his weight press down on her pubic mound, sealing their belies together. He took a deep breath as they finally tapered off and he felt like he could move without coming instantly. “Your shirt is going to get grass stains,” he warned. 

“Probably already has,” she laughed breathlessly, but lifted her upper body, crushing their chests together, and wriggled out of it, Rumpelstiltskin groaning at the movement. He braced his hands on the ground to either side of her as she lay back down. 

“I believe this is what you wanted?”

And he took her in quick, hard thrusts, swinging in and out of her body, pausing occasionally with just the flared head of his cock still inside her, waiting for her closed eyes to open and re-focus on him before slamming back in again, rocking her back against the grass, relishing every gasp and sound of pleasure he drew out of her. She lifted her legs to wrap them around his waist, pulling him in deeper yet, his balls bumping against her with every stroke, and he shortened his thrusts, grinding against her. The scent of crushed grass rose around them as the sweat ran down his back, and the pleasure coiled tighter and tighter within him until he could hold back no longer. He stiffened, freezing above her with a grimace on his face and his head thrown back as he came, cock jerking inside of her as he emptied himself in violent spurts.

He sagged when his climax had passed, collapsing and rolling onto the ground beside her, closing his eyes and waiting for his galloping heart to slow, a delicious languor stealing over him. Belle turned on her side to watch him unobserved, sweeping her eyes up and down his body.

“You have grass-stained knees,” she remarked after a couple of minutes had passed. 

He turned his head to the side to look at her, then brought one knee up and glanced down. “Haven’t had those for over 300 years. Bet your backside’s green.” He grinned. 

“We’ll use a blanket next time.”

“Next time?”

Belle blushed. “Well, if you like. I did, being outside.”

He turned on his side as well, facing her. “So did I.” He reached out to push some wisps of hair off of her face. “We should take advantage of the warm weather.”

“Mm.” She reached out and traced a slow circle around his nipple, brushing her thumb over the bud. “I think I’d like to have a turn at being the artist.” She ran her finger down his body, circled his belly button.

Rumpelstiltskin swallowed hard as he realised what she was inferring. “Oh?” As sated as he was, his cock twitched as she cupped his balls and rolled them in her hand.

“Mm-hm. There are five more blackberry bars in the box. And a box of chocolate fudgsicles that I haven’t even opened yet. I figure I could bring a few out in a cooler with ice next time, so they last longer. You know how I like sucking on a chocolate-covered treat.” She let his balls go and closed her hand over the head of his cock, squeezing for emphasis, before letting him go.

“ _They_ might last longer, but I don’t know if I will,” he admitted, already thinking ahead, imagining icy cold caresses on his skin and a hot mouth chasing after. 

“If I can’t get you to come twice, then I’m not trying hard enough,” she purred, leaning in to kiss him, trading the taste of blackberry.

“Oh,” he said again, his normal eloquence deserting him. His adam’s apple bobbed. “Shall I come home early from work tomorrow?” he offered.

“That sounds nice.” Her hand trailed over his side, following the ridge of his hip bone. “I’ll be waiting.” She kissed the top of his shoulder, sucked gently at the salty skin of his throat, smiled.

She looked like the cat who had swallowed the canary.

And he was going to the one who was supplying the cream.


End file.
